Blueberry Scones
by lydiamaartin
Summary: Chocolate is good for after a Dementor attack. Turns out blueberries are good for building a friendship. - AU, Harry and Ginny through the years


**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.**

**Warning: This is, obviously, AU, because none of these moments happened in canon and Ginny's characterization is tweaked a little from the get-go. Hopefully, this won't be a huge problem :)**

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><p>The first thing he smells when he wakes up is blueberries.<p>

Harry blinks, attempting to bring the whiteness of the Hospital Wing into focus. There's definitely blueberry somewhere in his vincinity. By his bed, he sees a flash of red-orange, and he turns. Ginger hair, freckles, warm brown eyes, blushing cheeks – if he's not hallucinating, that's definitely Ginny Weasley at his bedside.

"Hey," he says, a trifle uncertainly, trying to sit up so he can look at her properly but sliding back down when he realizes he lacks the energy.

"Hi, Harry," she replies quietly, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. "I – I was just here to check on you. I have a free block while Ron and Hermione are in class, and I thought you could use some company."

Harry tilts his head, half-asleep and little bit confused, but still happy that she'd thought to come and sit with him. "Thanks, Ginny," he tells her sincerely. "How'd you know I was awake?"

Ginny ducks her head, but she seems to be smiling. "I didn't," she admits. "I came by to drop off a treat, actually, and then you started stirring, so I thought I may as well sit and wait for you to wake up. Um, here you go."

She presses something warm and delicious-smelling into his hands. Harry glances down and finds a blueberry scone, looking like the most delectable thing in the world at the moment, in his hands. It's not perfect enough to come from Honeydukes'; it's shaped a bit haphazardly by inexperienced hands, but it still smells amazing, so he quickly lifts it up and takes a bite.

"Mm," he grins through his mouthful of delicious, blueberry goodness. "Ginny, this is delicious! Where did you get it?"

Ginny shifts in her seat, looking half-pleased, half-embarrassed. "I, um, I made it. Before we come to Hogwarts, I always help Mum bake some sweet treats, so I don't have to buy from the trolley on the train. I had a few scones left over, and I thought you might like it, after the Dementor scare and all. There's chocolate in it, and Professor Lupin did say that helps, right?"

Harry takes another bite; the scone is nearly half-finished. "Oh, yeah, chocolate is good after Dementors," he agrees. "Thanks, Ginny. This really helps."

"I'm glad," she smiles, and she looks rather cute when she smiles, so Harry grins back and takes another bite of her delicious blueberry scone.

-:-

At King's Cross station, Harry stands at the barrier separating Platform 9 ¾ from the rest of the world and takes a deep breath. All in all, he thinks, despite the life-or-death situations he always managed to find himself in, the year hadn't been that bad. And it had ended on a high note – he had a godfather, a new broom, a way to keep the Dursleys scared, and the best friends in the world.

He turns back for a moment to see Ron attempting to wriggle out of his mother's embrace and shooting Harry a forlorn look that makes him laugh. Behind him, the twins are chattering on about some brilliant new prank they're planning, and Ginny is –

"Harry, wait."

Her voice rings above the din, and Harry turns towards her, more than a little confused. Ginny appears very small and fire-bright in the mist of the platform, and she's blushing when she looks at him, but she meets his gaze and smiles anyway. He smiles back, and she holds something out for him.

It's a blueberry scone.

"I thought you might like it," Ginny says, her smile a little unsure as he stands there. "As a goodbye present, of sorts. Since you seemed to like it so much."

"Thank you," Harry interrupts before she can start babbling, his own smile becoming genuinely happy as he accepts the scone. "I didn't think you'd remember that."

Ginny shrugs. "Hard to forget you."

Harry hesitates, tucking the magically-wrapped scone into his pocket, before he leans forward and surprises her with a hug. "I"ll savor every bite," he promises her, grinning, and she giggles, finally wrapping her arms around him to return the hug.

"You're welcome," she says when they pull back. "I'll…I'll see you soon, yeah?"

Harry grins at her. "Real soon," he says. "Bye, Ginny."

She lifts a hand to wave as he turns and walks through the barrier. Before he enters the muggle world fully, he glances back to see her smile, and waves back.

-:-

The night before the Quidditch World Cup, Harry finds himself sitting on a log by himself at a campfire, surrounded by his friends and their laughter, warming his hands in the flames of the fire and listening to Hermione chastise Ron by the nearby refreshments table.

It's a rather comforting sound, he realizes. Despite everything, he knows Ron and Hermione won't ever change too drastically.

"Is this log taken?" asks a quiet voice, and he looks up to find Ginny standing there, holding her green Ireland hat in one hand and a plateful of s'mores in the other.

"No," he grins up at her. "You can sit here, if you'd like."

Ginny smiles, setting her hat on the ground as she takes a seat next to him. She's blushing, he notices, though it's harder to tell by the firelight, but she doesn't seem at all paralyzed or speechless, and he supposes actually _talking_ to her last year had helped with her crush.

"S'mores?" she offers, holding out the plate. "Fred and George are making some more. They're in love with these, ever since Hermione taught them how to make them."

"I can't blame them," Harry says, smiling gratefully at her as he takes a s'more from the plate she puts between them on the log. "These are delicious."

"Mm-hm," Ginny agrees, taking her own s'more and biting in. "Are you having fun here?"

"A ton," he assures her, grinning around his mouthful of marshmallow and chocolate and graham cracker. "This place is amazing, and I'm constantly surrounded by friends. What could be better?"

"Not much," she smiles, finishing off her s'more. "I…I should go. See you around, Harry."

He blinks at her as she stands, offers him one last smile, and bounds away to stop Hermione from strangling Ron. Harry watches her go with a smile on his face.

It feels kind of nice to actually be Ginny's friend.

-:-

Harry always knew there was a reason he never liked the library, no matter how much time Hermione forced him to spend in there.

Looking down at the book in front of him, all the letters blur together and twist and warp around until they don't resemble the original words at all. Instead, they become memories – memories of Ron, mostly, and his reaction to Harry becoming a Champion; memories of the way Dumbledore looked when he found out; of the way others glared at him; of the way his only real friend seemed to be Hermione these days because everyone else had deserted him or become enraptured with him because he was a Champion.

Someone slides down across from him, but he doesn't look up until something sweet-smelling appears under his nose. Harry blinks at the sweet treat in front of him – small, round, warm bread mixed with ripe blueberries...

It's a blueberry scone. He looks up to see Ginny sitting there, smiling only a little hesitantly at him. And she doesn't look like she hates him, which is a plus.

"Hey," he greets, caught off-guard by her sudden appearance and silence. "What – what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," she replies, gesturing to the blueberry scon. "I thought you might…need this. After everything that's happening, I mean. Blueberry scones always seem to cheer you up."

Harry has to grin at that. "Your blueberry scones do," he tells her, eagerly biting into the one she'd given him. "They're always delicious," he compliments sincerely, because they really are, and it makes her face light up with a smile when he compliments her.

"Listen," Ginny begins, sounding uncharacteristically somber. "About my brother – Harry, he's just…"

"Jealous?" Harry suggests. "That's what Hermione says. And I mean, I _get_ it, but that doesn't mean he can just – " He inhales and exhales. "I mean, I'd appreciate it if he supported me, you know."

"But Harry, that's not it," Ginny blurts out, making him stop to send her a startled glance. "I mean, sure, he's jealous. Ron gets jealous easily, but he gets over it easily enough, too. Trust me. I know my brother. He's, well, he's _hurt_."

The look in her brown eyes is earnest, and it makes Harry stop to consider her words. He knows Ginny and Ron have their fights and don't really run in the same friendship circles, given that they're mostly normal siblings, but he often forgets that Ginny's closest in age to Ron and that, growing up, they'd probably have been a lot closer than they seem now.

And that she probably knows Ron better than _he_ knows his best friend.

"Why?" he asks, genuinely curious, watching Ginny as she twists her hands, his scone almost forgotten.

"Because you're his best friend and he thinks you've gone and entered yourself in the Tournament without asking him for help, or telling him about it, or including him," Ginny tells him quietly. "I mean, I'm not an expert, but I've grown up with him. I know the difference between when he's hurt and when he's jealous. When Percy gets a new pet, he's jealous. When Fred and George recruit me instead of him for a prank, he gets _hurt_."

Harry stares at her in puzzlement, absently breaking pieces of his blueberry scone to eat as her words sink in. She's right, he understands, but that doesn't really change anything, does it?

Ginny hesitates, a blush returning to her cheeks, and stands up. "I should get going. But, Harry – just give him time, all right? He'll come around when he realizes you _haven't_ deserted him. I promise."

Harry swallows most of what he wants to say to her. "Thanks," he says, offering her a smile. "For everything."

Ginny rakes a nervous hand through her bright hair and smiles back, still blushing. "I – um, you're welcome," she says, before scurrying out of the library, leaving Harry with his thoughts and his blueberry scone for company.

-:-

"Having fun?"

The words are light, the voice is easy, and the face is friendly, but this might just be the worst ball he's ever attended – and it's the _only_ ball he's ever attended, so, suffice to say, Harry is _not_ having a good time, no matter how many blueberry scones Ginny gives him.

"Not one bit," he tells her honestly, straightening up in his seat as she smiles and sits down beside him. "You?"

"Somewhat," she says, half-laughing, half-blushing. "Neville's great, even if he's not the best dancer, and…well, I have to admit, the drama between Ron and Hermione was very entertaining."

"Not when you were trying to break them apart," Harry protests. "You know what happened, then?"

Ginny snorts. "I think the whole room does. See, _this_ is how Ron acts when he's jealous." She hesitates for a moment, then passes him something warm and thankfully familiar. It's a blueberry scone, definitely a welcome sight at the moment, and he accepts it with a grateful smile.

"Thanks," he says around a mouthful of delicious blueberry and bread. "You always know how to make me feel better."

"It's not hard," she giggles. "I just give you a scone. Honestly, you're probably the only person I've met aside from me who actually really likes them. Most of my brothers don't like blueberries…or my cooking," she tells him, grinning.

Harry raises an eyebrow in surprise. "They don't? They're idiots. Your scones are delicious."

Ginny blushes, though there's a smile playing on her face. "Thanks, but – well, that's basically the only thing I'm good at. I'm fine with baking, but I'm a disaster when it comes to soups, salads, meat that's _not_ wrapped in pastries…"

"Never would have guessed," Harry grins. "So, where is Neville?" he asks as he finishes off the blueberry scone.

"Taking a break," Ginny laughs. "Talking to Seamus and Dean. We were both tired of dancing, and he felt bad that he kept stepping on my feet, so we decided to sit out the next few. Where's…Parvati, right?"

Harry shrugs. "Dancing with some Beauxbatons boy," he informs her, scanning the dance floor and eventually spying Parvati twirling happily in the arms of the boy who'd asked her to dance, apparently having a much better time with him than she had with Harry.

"I'm sorry?" Ginny offers, biting her lip, following his gaze.

"It's fine," Harry sighs. "I don't mind, really. I don't even really like dancing. Tonight is just a bad night all around, despite my date." Involuntarily, his eyes wander back to the dance floor, this time to a different couple. Cho looks positively blissful, spinning around with Cedric holding her tight. Ever so often, she looks up and he cracks a joke and she starts laughing –

Harry looks away.

"Cedric's girl, really?" Ginny sounds like she wants to be amused, but the look in her brown eyes is more than a little disheartened. "As if you weren't competing with him enough!"

He almost laughs. "Yeah, I just – I don't know. It's stupid. She's pretty, though."

"Yeah," Ginny sighs, looking at him thoughtfully. He meets her gaze and she immediately ducks her head, blushing. "Um," she begins, seeming as if she dearly wants to ask him something but is too nervous to. Harry puts on his most encouraging smile.

"This dance," she says slowly, gesturing at the dance floor as a new song starts, "it's one where you switch partners. If you want to dance, I could – uh, well, I might be able to get you to switch with Cedric, so that…" She trails off, looking at him uncertainly.

Something warm blossoms in his chest. Harry knows she has a crush on him, and yet here she is, offering to help him get a dance with the girl he likes, who, now that he thinks about it, doesn't spend nearly as much time with him as Ginny does.

"That'd be great," he tells her, grinning widely enough to split his face. "I – thank you, Ginny," he says sincerely, standing and offering her a hand to help her up.

She smiles, though it seems a little forced. "That's what friends are for, right?"

-:-

Dancing with Ginny is almost as nice as one of her blueberry scones. She's warm and small, and she fits much more easily into his arms than Parvati did. She also doesn't lead him around like a mule, probably because she's only a slightly better dancer than he is.

_And_ he hasn't stepped on her toes once. Harry feels quite proud when he smiles at her, right as the partner switch music picks up. Carefully, he twirls Ginny away towards some boy from his year and turns around in time to catch Cho in his arms.

Relentlessly, butterflies seem to be attacking him inside as Cho smiles and straightens in his arms. "Hello, Harry," she says lightly. "Enjoying the Ball?"

Harry swallows, hoping he doesn't look like too much of a fool. "Yeah, I am," he says shyly. "I, uh, are you?"

Cho giggles. "I am, thanks," she says brightly, looping her arms around him. "Who did you end up going with?"

"Um, Parvati," he says, clearing his throat. "Parvati Patil."

"Really?" Cho looks surprised. "I thought you'd come with Ginny Weasley, from the way you two were talking and dancing," she tells him as he spins her in and out of his arms.

"What?" Harry blinks. "No, not at all. She's a friend. We were just bored. Really," he says, almost defensively, trying not to let his gaze wander over Cho's shoulder to where Ginny's dancing with – Michael Corner, is it? He thinks that's the name of the Ravenclaw boy she's dancing with, anyway. And she actually looks happy, smiling at him and talking with him…

He shakes his head, wondering why, exactly, he cares about who Ginny's dancing with.

"Oh, all right," says Cho easily, steering his mind away from thoughts of Ginny and the Ravenclaw boy. "You're a good dancer."

Harry blinks at her. "I am?" he asks, wonderfully eloquently. "I mean," he coughs, "thanks. Dance lessons, you know."

Cho grins, but before she can say anything else, the next partner switch is upon them and Harry finds himself dancing, once again, with Parvati.

"Um," he says, a little embarrassed as she raises her eyebrows at him. "Hi."

"Hello," she greets frostily. "Enjoying yourself, Harry?"

"Look, I'm sorry for earlier," he blurts out. "I was just…in a bad mood."

Parvati sniffs, but her countenance softens. "I could tell. You seemed much happier with Ginny Weasley."

Harry blushes. "I, uh, I did?" he asks, more than a bit surprised by her observation. "She's…very nice, is all."

"Mm-hm," Parvati says, rolling her eyes. "Well, this was nice, anyway."

He doesn't think she really agrees with her own statement, but he nods anyway as the dance ends and she slides back into the arms of her French partner and he leaves the dance floor to meet Ginny at the tables again, nodding at Hermione and Krum as he passes them by.

"Did you enjoy your dance?" Ginny asks, though she seems distracted as they take their seats, her gaze lingering on the dance floor. "With Cho, I mean."

"Oh, um, yeah," Harry says, glancing sidelong at her. "It was…it was fun. Did you have fun?"

Ginny tilts her head, and he's finally able to follow her gaze to the first boy she'd been dancing with, the Ravenclaw from his year. "Yeah," she says slowly, "I did."

She glances back at him with a bright smile, and Harry smiles back. Maybe the Ball wasn't a total catastrophe, after all.

-:-

"I'm glad you were cleared, Harry."

Ginny's voice is soft, but she seems much more confident than the last few years as she grins at him, surrounded by the smell of her mother's cooking and the sounds of Ron and Hermione bickering behind her. Before he can formulate a coherent reply, she's warm in his arms, and he can't help but notice that she fits much more nicely against him than Hermione ever has.

"Me, too," he says fervently into her fire-bright hair. "Though, I kind of gathered that from the cheer you and the twins were doing."

She pulls back and laughs. "To be fair, it was their idea," she reminds him. "Hey, I don't suppose you're in the mood for a blueberry scone?"

"Are you kidding?" Harry demands, flashing her a smile. "I'm always in the mood for your blueberry scones."

"Great," Ginny grins cheerfully. "You can help me make them, then."

Unceremoniously, she grabs his hand and drags him into the kitchen, pausing only to call to her mother, "Harry and I are making celebratory blueberry scones!", over her shoulder before stopping in front of the oven area in the not-insignificant kitchen.

"Ready?" she beams at him, washing her hands.

"Um," Harry says eloquently, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah. I _think_."

-:-

To his surprise, making blueberry scones with Ginny isn't that hard – and it's kind of fun, on top of that.

He's not a bad cook, from years at the Dursleys, and Ginny's learned a few tricks from her mother, so they actually make a pretty good team. The kitchen doesn't even get _that_ messy (though they both get splattered with flour and chocolate and blueberries from time to time, mostly by each other), and by the end, they have a very delicious-looking trayful of blueberry scones in front of them.

"Hey, you're pretty good at this," Ginny tells him, hanging up their aprons with a smile. "If you'd told me you could cook beforehand, I would have made you make your own blueberry scones."

Harry laughs, a trifle nervously. "Thanks, but that's all right. I prefer yours."

"You haven't even tried your own," she points out, grinning as she breaks one of the scones in half and offers it to him. "Go on."

Harry glances sidelong at her, then bites into the warm chocolatey, blueberry goodness of the scone. "This is delicious!" he exclaims.

Ginny tries a bite of her own and grins around her mouthful of scone. "I told you so," she says cheekily. "Aren't you glad you got cleared now?"

Harry smiles at her. "Yeah," he says, but his answer has almost nothing to do with how delicious their scones are.

-:-

"I – " It's a little hard to get the words out, looking at her tiny, curled up form on the armchair. Harry coughs. "I'm sorry."

Ginny blinks up at him, firelight shining in her brown eyes. "What for?" she asks blankly, shifting to a position that doesn't make her look quite so _small_ and heartbroken.

"About your father," Harry sighs, easing himself onto the floor beside her armchair. "I'm sorry he was hurt. I'm sorry I couldn't stop it. And I – "

"Shut up," Ginny murmurs, her voice still sleepy as she closes her eyes again. "Stop blaming yourself. S'not your fault. Let me get some sleep, would you?"

"You're not sleeping," he points out validly, looking bemused.

Ginny opens one eye to glare at him. "Yes, I'm aware," she tells him primly, and he almost laughs at her mock-posh tone. "And my point still stands. Why d'you feel it's your fault?"

Harry looks at her forlornly. "Because in my dream…it felt like I _was_ the snake, that _I_ was attacking him. Like I was – possessed or something. And Ron and Hermione and Dumbledore and the others, they don't seem to understand – "

"Obviously," Ginny rolls her eyes, straightening up. "None of _them_ have ever been possessed by Voldemort, now, have they?"

There's a moment of silence as her words sink into the melancholy atmosphere.

Harry clears his throat. "Right, of course. That's why I wanted to talk to you – "

Ginny sends him a look that could rival Hermione's best (or worst, depending). "Of course," she drawls in a dead-on imitiation of Malfoy. "So, you dreamed that you nearly killed my father. How do you feel, Mr. Potter?"

Her relentless mimicking draws a laugh out of him. "Better, actually. Thanks to you."

"Yes, that's what I was aiming for," Ginny smiles, looking entirely self-satisfied, then dissolves into giggles. "Now that you're not brooding anymore, can I sleep?"

Harry finds himself smiling – _genuinely_ smiling, and he hasn't done that in what seems like forever. "Good night, Ginny."

Ginny snorts. "I think that's the sweetest thing you've said in weeks," she mutters, flashing him a teasing grin. "And Harry?"

"Hm?" he asks, turning back around to look at her as he rises to his feet.

Ginny's smile is soft and pretty. "I'm scared, too," she confides, her voice a hushed whisper. "I'm afraid to go to sleep because I know I'll have nightmares. But it's a lot easier to get through this when you have people you love to rely on."

Freeing a hand, she gestures to Fred and George, collapsed on the carpet and sharing a blanket that Sirius has draped over them. Next to them, Ron and Hermione are huddled, a few feet away from Harry and Ginny, whispering quietly; Hermione's hand is pressed into Ron's, giving him comfort.

As he watches, Ron looks over at the two of them and smiles. It's strained and not entirely genuine, but it's familiar and kind and so very _Ron_.

Ginny glances up at him, already half-asleep, and smiles again. "Sweet dreams, Harry," she whispers.

He sleeps much easier that night

-:-

One day, the summer before his sixth year, Harry decides that since he's known Ginny for five years now, he really ought to get her a birthday present for once.

"I made you a blueberry scone," he says, looking up into the leafy branches of the tree she's sitting in. It occurs to him that this is the first time _he's_ said that to _her_, for a change. "Ginny? You _are_ in this tree, right? Or was Hermione lying to me?"

The leaves rustle, and Ginny peers down at him, her hair very bright against the green of the tree. "Hermione doesn't lie – _too_ often," she laughs. "Did you really make me a blueberry scone, Harry? All by yourself?"

Her smile is delighted, and Harry grins up at her as he passes the blueberry scone into her hands before attempting to climb the tree. "Well, I may have had a little help," he admits, hoisting himself up onto Ginny's branch. He's a little out of practice; he hasn't had to climb a tree since the days when Dudley still enjoyed Harry-hunting.

"That's so sweet," Ginny beams, helping him steady himself before leaning over and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Thanks, Harry."

"Anytime," Harry mumbles, feeling strangely dizzy after her kiss. "Happy birthday, Ginny."

She flashes him a smile and bites into the blueberry scone. "It's delicious!"

Harry sighs in relief. "Thank Merlin," he grins, nudging her shoulder with his. "Glad you like it."

"Of course I like it," Ginny says softly, turning the scone over in her hands before looking back at him with a smile. "Oh, and Harry?"

"Yeah?" he ask, a little distracted by how pretty she looks when she's smiling.

"You know you have to clean up the kitchen right?"

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><p><strong>Author's Notes: Yeah, I really don't know what this is. Another one of my AU!HarryGinny oneshots, I suppose :P Hope you guys enjoyed it anyway, and if you did, <em>please<em> leave a review to let me know what you thought! It'd make my day! :D**

**And don't favorite without reviewing, please and thank you.  
><strong>


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